When a hurting heart cant be healed
by EmRosey
Summary: OLD .Sawyer is back fresh from the island. He should be happy, but he cant be without her. Is his life worth living anymore? He held in his had the answer to all his problems. It was a way to erase all the pain and hurt she had caused to his he


_**Hey! A oneshot. Sawyer and his life without her, but is his life worth living without her?**_

* * *

Sawyer walked into the old house that he hadn't stepped foot in since he was eight years old. It was the house that belonged to his parents, and the house they died in. It hadn't changed at all, apart from a thick layer of dust which now covered every surface, but that didn't bother Sawyer. He would get done here what needed to be done, then he would be free.

It seemed like a lifetime ago he had stepped off of the plane that had rescued the survivors from the terrible island they had once called home, but it was in reality a few hours ago. Sawyer had dodged the reporters, wanting to get as far away from those god damn reporters as possible. Sawyer could be very persuasive when he wanted to be, let's just say that after he had spoken, or rather threatened, the first reporter that came to him, no more bothered.

He had got a cab to his home town of Tennessee, right to his childhood home. The drive had been terrible, the annoying son of a bitch driver rattled to Sawyer about the island, he didn't seem to take a hint when Sawyer had given grunts in reply to his many questions, he didn't seem to take a hint when Sawyer failed to answer them at all. He only seemed to take a hint when Sawyer told the stupid son of a bitch to stick his questions where the sun don't shine, and even then he had put on the radio.

That didn't last too long either, all it took was one song, one song to remind him, to open wounds further than they had ever been opened, wounds there was only one way to close.

_You're beautiful. You're beautiful._

_  
You're beautiful, it's true._

_  
I saw your face in a crowded place,  
_

_And I don't know what to do,_

_  
'Cause I'll never be with you._

_You're beautiful. You're beautiful.  
_

_You're beautiful, it's true._

_  
There must be an angel with a smile on her face,  
_

_When she thought up that I should be with you.  
_

_But it's time to face the truth,_

_  
I will never be with you._

Sawyer hadn't been able to stand the song, the words so raw and true to his own feelings. He had shouted at the driver in his usual sarcastic manner until he turned the radio off, they had made the rest of the journey in silence.

So now Sawyer was here, and he was here alone. This wasn't how it was meant to be, he should be here, with her.

But she didn't want him, oh no. He was devoted, passionately, insanely in love with her. But she wanted someone else.

Sawyer hadn't let it show on the island, he had buried his bleeding heart with a layer of sarcastic new nicknames and wisecracks, the sadder he got the meaner he became. The islanders pretty much ignored Sawyer after that, although most of them saw through his act. They knew he wanted her, that the reason for his arrogance was because he missed her. But she didn't notice, she didn't care. Hurley had tried to help but only earned himself five new nicknames in the process, nicknames that rather hurt him. Sawyer could hear Hurley's voice in his head now,_ "Hey dude, just cause she hurt you doesn't mean you have to hurt me" _

But it did, when Sawyer was hurting, he had to hurt other people, to try and repair his hurt. Sometimes, other times he had been hurt it had worked. But not now, not with her. It had never worked with her.

He was here now, outside his old bedroom. The bedroom his mother had franticly ran into, warning him to stay hidden, the night she had been shot. The bedroom his father shot himself in, after he had shot his mother.

Sawyer sat down on the bed, the bed his father had sat on all those years ago with him, Sawyer, underneath. He sat and stared out into the empty corridor, his eyes glazing with tears.

He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled it out. The answer to all his problems. He held it in his hand like it was magical, for him it was. It was a way to erase all the pain and hurt she had caused to his heart.

He put it to his head and pulled the trigger.

No one was there when he died, but if they had been there, they would have heard him utter a single word from his lips before he pulled that fateful trigger.

And the word he had uttered was "Kate"


End file.
